Variety is the Splice of Life

Stalking the shadows given the oversized awnings, Hector moved with the grace of a Dancer who had spliced too much cat DNA.  In today’s world there was almost no such thing as a pure Human – Homo sapien sapien had given way to so much more.  Splicing had become such a common thing to improve almost any aspect of life someone desired.  After all, they had already slowed the death gene so people lived several hundred years.  So who spliced?  Anyone who wanted to.  Of course those with means often had higher quality DNA samples and claimed more benefit from splicing.

Specialists in a particular job, or who took after particular animals were often named after them.  Hector had a college buddy who wanted to do marine biology and spliced more dolphin DNA than might be good for him.  He became the first human Cetacean.  For all the splicing going on in the world, Hector liked being Human.  He was neither a Cat nor a Dancer, he was just good at his job; whatever that job may be.  No matter how long it took to get good at it.

This particular job was not terribly difficult: stealth and maybe a small bit of incursion.  The police still liked to call that latter bit “breaking and entering”.  Hector never broke when he entered and hence had more than a few casual encounters with various law enforcement agencies across the galaxy.  His job was simply to watch a DRx building to see if any Fliers were coming and going regularly.  Why his employer wanted a DNA implant facility watch wasn’t his concern.  He merely did his job and moved on.

In the last two weeks Hector had only seen one Flier and had almost missed her.  He had nearly made a mistake that would have cost him the contract.  Fliers obviously could fly and so didn’t need a ground entrance.  After the first visit, Hector had found a perch of his own two streets away.  Amidst the various AC units and vents on the roof, he wasn’t likely to be discovered.

Leaving the shadows below Hector ascended the brick wall of the building in a free climb.  One final grunt and he was overlooking the DRx.  All was as it was yesterday.   If the Flier maintained her pattern she would come in from the West in about 2 minutes.  The color of the DRx was giving Hector a headache.  It was as if they painted the walls a bright lime color then whitewashed them leaving an off white – the off being a hint of green.  The DRx sign perpendicular to the building was a bright neon green that this particular company used.  Oddly, with all the advances made, nobody had come up with anything better than neon for garish lighting.

The Flier came rushing over the rooftops from the West faster than Hector had ever seen her.  She went straight through the usual window she knocked on.  As the sound of shattering glass was registering in his ears Hector realized this was out of the ordinary, exactly what his employers had been waiting for.  He thumbed his comm on and spat out a terse report.  Without waiting for a reply he thumbed it off and prepared to leave his rooftop roost.

The stamping of heavily armored (and just plain heavy) Rhinos caused him to pause.  He peered over the lip of the roof and saw a century of these for hire thugs.  Many of them were private security, but if you had enough creds and enough clout they might as well be a private army.  Why were they showing up mere minutes after the Flier broke her pattern?  Something was wrong.  Hector, it isn’t your problem.  You got paid to do a job.  Yeah, well, these Rhinos are being paid to do one too, why do I feel all of a sudden like they’re here because of me?  With that thought the lead decade of Rhinos broke into the DRx.  Decade by decade the rest of them entered the building leaving the final decade behind facing outward.

Hector did not know for sure that these mercenaries were also in the pay of his employer but he did not like the way he was feeling.  He went to the edge or the wall surrounding the roof and leapt down to the next building, rolling as his bent knees absorbed most of the shock.  The DRx was taller so he could not do it again.  Luckily, while nothing like a Galaxy Scout, Hector came prepared.  He shot a grapple line to the roof and pulled it taut.  Connecting the line to his belt he hit the recall and sped off the adjacent building toward the DRx.

In less than five dizzying seconds, the grapple had taken me to the roof of the DRx.  Hector could feel the tramping of the Rhinos inside and practically taste the destruction taking place inside.  As luck would have it, the roof door was designed as an emergency exit and hence had mechanical rather than electrical locks.  Nobody’s managed to figure out a Sonic Screwdriver yet so Hector pulled out the old standby, a bobby pin.  Some things never change.

The door opened with a wheeze and the scent of fear came crawling out on its hands and knees.  Hector had never been a coward or seen much reason to fear.  For the first time since he was a child and for the briefest of moments he felt the icy skeletal fingers grasping at him.  At that moment he heard the scream of horror of grief and pain and he slapped it away the fear and entered the building.

The Rhinos had obviously found their target as the stamping of feet had ceased and the building had stopped shaking.  A more muffled movement could be heard as they descended.  Hector knew they would leave behind a Decade to sweep the building for any stragglers so he’d have to be careful.

He used those same stealthy skills he’d spent years developing to get into an office and behind cover as a one of the Rhinos rounded a corner at the end of the hall he was in.  It passed and Hector was moving again, prudence dictated quiet and stealth the whole way, but the scent of fear was mingled with a coppery-sweetness that could only be one thing, blood, kept him moving quickly.

As he neared the next set of stairs down to the floor where the Flier would have been the stench of blood was mixed the plethora of unsavory scents that people leave in death as the bodies void themselves and those who still live empty their stomachs.  As revolting as it was, Hector knew he had to continue.  He also knew there was no chance this Flier would still be living, but he was compelled.

The scene he found himself in would have made Wes Craven’s special effects team grimace.  Not only was there blood everywhere, splattered across the walls, pooling on the white tile floor of what appeared to be an examination room, it was mixed with feathers.  The Rhinos had plucked her alive, there was even a wishbone that had been pulled apart.  One can only hope she had died by then.  Hector took another step and felt a crunch under his boot.  He had missed the redness seeping through the whites into the dark golden yellow yolks of the Flier’s unborn children.  A clutch of a half-dozen eggs the size of watermelons had been smashed probably before or during the plucking to torment the Flier even more.

In the silence of the moment, Hector could hear an electric hum.  It was much too dim to be heard above any other real noise.  It was almost like an ancient 20^th Century CRT gave off a bit of an electric whine when it was powered on.  It was coming from behind a ventilation grate at floor level at the back of the room.  Considering all the rest of them in the room and the building were on the ceiling or at the top of walls, it had to be a disguise.  Whatever it was the Rhinos had obviously missed it in all their evil frolicking. 

Hector crossed the room and found the release to the grate and peered into the cavity.  Inside it was an incubator with a single jet black egg lying inside….